


Thank You

by faerierequiem



Category: The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-09 03:06:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7784287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faerierequiem/pseuds/faerierequiem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Achilles stopped before the tent flaps. The events of the day’s raid was nothing but a numb blur, except for one that still weighed at his mind and anchored his feet to the ground outside the tent. Patroclus would be in there, and he would be awake and ready to listen.<br/>Only Achilles didn’t want that. Not tonight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thank You

Achilles stopped before the tent flaps. The events of the day’s raid was nothing but a numb blur, except for one that still weighed at his mind and anchored his feet to the ground outside the tent. Patroclus would be in there, and he would be awake and ready to listen.

Only Achilles didn’t want that. Not tonight.

He let out a silent breath before softly pulling back the flaps and entering.

At the sight of Patroclus lying on the bed, asleep on his side and his hair a dark mark against his pillow, momentary surprise filled Achilles. He smiled to himself, traced a path to the bed with careful steps, and placed a kiss to Patroclus’ cheek before retreating to the back of the tent.

Achilles set his helmet down and was undoing his armor when he heard Patroclus quietly ask, “Do you need any help?”

“No.” Achilles turned in time to see Patroclus sitting up on the bed. “I’m almost done. Stay in bed.”

“Okay.” Patroclus yawned. It was a quiet sound, but—like everything about the moment—it was enough. Already Achilles could feel the burden in his mind fading away.

He washed up, wiping away the blood and dirt from his skin, and the process was longer than he would’ve liked. When at last he settled underneath the blankets, Achilles drew Patroclus close and pressed a kiss to his lips.

Patroclus drew back a bit. His lips brushed against Achilles’ as he said, “Sorry.”

“For what?” Achilles ran a hand across Patroclus’ skin, enjoying where the softness of his stomach gave away to tough muscle.

“I fell asleep.”

Achilles let out a little laugh. “You don’t always have to be awake for me.”

“I want to.” Patroclus shifted closer to him, close enough that Achilles could feel the warmth of his body and hear the way his breaths rose and fell. “But I couldn’t find the time today to sleep. Briseis had me help mend tunics.”

Achilles grinned. “How was it?”

“Much more difficult than it looks,” Patroclus replied.

At the exasperation in his voice, Achilles laughed.

“Truthfully!” Patroclus exclaimed. “My fingers still hurt and I barely did half the number of tunics she did!”

Achilles continued laughing. He buried his face against Patroclus’ shoulder. “I want to try mending tunics.”

“Then I’ll come get you next time,” Patroclus said.

Achilles nodded, a smile lingering on his face. “Okay.”

Silence settled comfortably over them. With his palm, Patroclus rubbed circles around Achilles’ back. Achilles felt his world grow small until it was nothing but Patroclus’ soothing touches and the feel of his chest beneath his hands. He did not mind if this was all his world would be composed of forever.

Sleepiness was flickering around the edges when Patroclus asked, “How was today’s raid?”

Achilles stilled. He shook his head.

After a moment, Patroclus spoke again. “Usually you tell me everything.”

There were no words Achilles could say. He stayed silent.

“Achilles, what’s wrong?” Patroclus started to move away, but Achilles reached out and stopped him.

Finally, he sighed. “There was a man I killed today.” He hesitated and Patroclus waited. “I didn’t think anything of it. He was an easy kill and went down without a sound. It was only afterwards that I noticed that he wasn’t alone. He had a son with him. This very young boy who had stood there and watched his father die in front of him. He’d been so quiet I didn’t even realize he was there, but the look in his eyes when he looked up at me…”

Achilles faltered, remembering the moment as intensely as when it had happened. The hatred that had burned in those young eyes. To think that someone of so young an age was capable of feeling that much hate… But Achilles was guilty. He did not fault the boy for his hatred.

Patroclus placed a hand to his face. “How did he look at you?” He asked, concerned.

“He looked at me as if he wanted to kill me,” Achilles said, slowly. “No. He _would_ have killed me if he could. I saw it in his eyes. He wouldn’t have hesitated.”

Before he could utter another word, Patroclus was wrapping his arms around him and pressing him closer.

Achilles buried his face against Patroclus’ chest. The bitterness was now growing again, working at his memories, and he struggled to stop it. War was an empty thing, but when it crossed boundaries and became personal, that was when he could not stand it—and the boy’s eyes had burned with something far more intimate than anything he’d ever seen on the battlefield. Without Patroclus, he’d go mad.

It took him longer than it normally would have for Achilles to realize how hard Patroclus was gripping him. “Patroclus?”

Patroclus’ grip loosened. His face was nothing but shadows in the night.

Achilles closed his eyes and reached up a hand. He ran his fingers along the edges of Patroclus’ jaw, over his nose and mouth, and around the beautiful eyes he could visualize in his mind’s eye. The words when they came were simple. “Thank you.”

Patroclus kissed him.

**Author's Note:**

> If you tumblr, check out the fanfic here: http://faerielament.tumblr.com/post/130180750341/the-song-of-achilles-thank-you - and reblog/like!


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